I'm Still Yours
by rensrenegade
Summary: He could get used to this. And that's what scared him. Kenny actually made him smile, genuinely, and feel all right. Whether it was just the burst of bubbly energy or something more, he was really enjoying this; hanging out with Kenny, that is. And as he looked at the blonde who was just smiling and basking in the heat of the car, he figured that yeah, Kenny could too.
1. You're Such a Faggot

_Author's Note: Well, the writer's block bug bit me in the Bunny feels. So while trying to work that out I found some inspiration for a Crenny story... or mutliple. So... here's the first one. This is only going to be a 6-9 chapter story. The chapters will probably get longer as I go, but for now they're just kind of like drabbles. Because if it isn't known, I like Crenny just as much as I like Bunny. _

_This story is inspired by the song "I'm Still Your Fag" by Broken Social Scene. You should totally check out that video. It's adorable. _

_Anywho, here ya go._

_Chapter One: You're Such a Faggot_

* * *

"You're such a faggot."

Blue eyes met blue and a crooked smirk met a gentle smile.

Kenny McCormick just laughed softly and smacked his lips as he examined the rouge on his lips; it wasn't pink enough. He needed Bebe's help.

"You're such a dork," Kenny simply replied to Craig Tucker, who rolled his eyes and bit back a smile as he made his way to the urinals.

Truth be told, if Craig was using the term "faggot" to mean "gay", then Craig Tucker was more of a _faggot_ than Kenny was. In fact, Kenny wasn't even gay. He just liked what he liked and that was that. Sometimes it was big breasts in his face, other times it was him riding some guy who was twice his age with a skirt on and sort of wishing he had those big breasts. Craig was just gay.

But it didn't matter to Kenny, who wiped off the lipstick on the paper towel. He would have to thank Butters for buying this for him, but it just wasn't his color. It would suit the lighter blonde; Kenny was more bold.

"Says the guy in his best friend's sweater and... those are _not_ pants." Kenny flashed a grin as he examined the skin tight bottoms that hugged his skinny thighs enough to accentuate assets that Craig definitely didn't think needed to be accentuated.

"Nope," Kenny simply responded as he heard Craig zip his jeans. "They're leggings... you should try 'em, they're comfy."

"They're not pants for _anyone_," the raven-haired boy barked as he pulled out his e-cigarette; it surely wasn't like smoking a real one, but it would have to do for now. After all they were in the boy's bathroom at school.

"Says you," Kenny responded, leaning back on the sink as he faced Craig. The taller boy gave the blonde a blank look before sighed and handed over his poor excuse of a cigarette. In response, Kenny just smiled as he placed the metal between his lips. He took a long drag and instantly missed the feeling of real smoke burning his lungs. "I'm kind of like one of these," the skinny boy said suddenly.

Craig gave him a look before shrugging and taking the bait; Kenny always said weird things. Kenny was just weird. That's why he was so interested in the little guy. That and the swivel in his hips had haunted his dreams on more than a rare occasion.

"How?" His voice was monotone but Kenny knew he was genuinely curious. That was the thing about Craig; it wasn't that he was apathetic, he just sounded that way. It was his eyes; other than shooting lasers, they were very expressive. Perhaps it was a side effect of the sparks.

"I'm close to a fag, but I'm just not completely there. I'm missing something, and makes me not a true faggot." Craig let out a barking laugh of disbelief and his eyes settled on Kenny's pretty-boy face. He could kiss those strawberry stained lips.

"Fine, you're an e-fag." Kenny snorted as he laughed and he handed Craig the electronic cigarette before he flashed him an angelic smile and walked slowly out of the boy's bathroom. The dark-haired boy stared after him; his dark blue eyes were glued on the shorter boy's rump. The black form-fitting, and not pants, leggings made him even more aware that yes; Kenny McCormick had an ass he'd love to sink his teeth into.

Craig shuddered at that and closed his eyes to attempt to rid those thoughts from his brain.

Kenny McCormick was a girlboy. He knew the seventeen year old saw himself half the time as a girl; or at least very feminine. He didn't know if that was the proper terminology but he didn't think it mattered much. After all, Kenny never used words to define who he was; it was always action.

And as Craig put his lips to the metal and tasted, yes, strawberry, he realized that he wanted to be a part of that action. Kenny McCormick wasn't a fag, no. But Craig would definitely make him _his_ fag.

"Will you quit eye-fucking Kenny?" Craig jumped at the sudden intrusion from his thoughts, and sent a death glare toward Clyde, who beamed at him from across the lunch table. He moved his head just right, more like wrong, so he couldn't see Kenny's black clad globes. God, he had such a nice ass.

"I'm not," Craig grumbled, stabbing his fork into the lasagna he made last night. Tweek twitched at his sudden movements, and Craig calmed down slightly. Contrary to popular belief, he and Tweek were not a thing. In fact, Tweek was straight. Just asexual.

"Ngh, y-yeah, Clyde," the spiky-haired blonde stammered, shifting his eyes to follow Craig's gaze. The lanky teen was met with an almost scary expression from Tweek, who did not look amused in the slightest. "R-r-really agh! Craig? He and nnngh! Butters kind of have a thing, gah!"

"No, they don't. They're just best friends. They just play dress up and do makeovers with each other all the time." The way Clyde said that sounded as if he were making fun of them, and Craig's glower darkened. Token saw this and cleared his throat before attempting to change the topic.

"Hey, did you guys know that Bebe actually got into Julliard?" Tweek's jaw dropped and he let out a squeak of surprise. Craig's eyes shifted to the girl who sat between Kenny and Butters at the table they shared with Stan, Kyle, Cartman, and Wendy, along with the more reluctant Annie and Red. She was laughing hard, probably at something Wendy or Butters said, and her vibrant curls fell over her face in a way that made her look truly happy. Wow, she really had things going for her. Who would have thought?

"That doesn't beat Cartman managing to get into Yale."

"That's bullshit. Seriously?" Token asked the brunette, who nodded with a dismal expression.

"He wasn't even wait-listed." Craig rolled his eyes and turned his attention to the other table. He watched as Bebe and Kenny talked animatedly to one another, with Butters hanging on their every word; no one would have guessed three years ago the two dated.

"That's disgusting!" He heard Bebe cry, followed by the two blonde boy's giggles. Like Tweek, Butters was wrongly accused of being gay. He was straight.

But Kenny wasn't. Kenny was just... Kenny. And Craig thought he was beautiful; because he was. He was practically androgynous anyway, and considering half the time he wore women's clothing he could often pass as a female. And somehow that turned Craig on even more, even though he was gayer than gay. Watching the golden blonde boy laugh with his cheeks flushed pink and his eyes squinted shut made the raven-haired boy wonder if Kenny was an angel. He was happy, and a bundle of constant energy, and so optimistic it almost hurt Craig. He would be such a good angel.

Ever since the 4th grade when Kenny became Princess Kenny, he had been more feminine. He always had a higher voice, and always had long hair because he couldn't afford to get it cut. But now he used it to be himself rather than someone looked down on. He didn't grow much, either. Whether it was from malnutrition or just bad genes, Kenny didn't even scrape by at 5'4". Craig was nearly a foot taller than him, and as a senior Kenny was shorter than most of the seventh grade girls. It was endearing, and contributed to the whole bi-gender thing Kenny had going on.

If Craig didn't want to fuck Kenny into oblivion, then he wanted to cuddle him. And that kind of scared him.

What scared him even more was as his eyes focused, he caught the small blonde's gaze. His hair hung in soft waves that Bebe helped him tend to fifteen minutes before school each day, and his pouty lips were pulled in a quiet smile; his piercings caught the light from above, and Craig froze; unsure of what to do.

And then Butters nudged Kenny, who immediately turned to Kyle, who had been apparently trying to grab his attention. Craig looked back at Clyde, who was in the middle of talking about some sport Craig didn't give two shits about, and caught the knowing look Tweek sent him.

Well then.

Three hours later, Craig slammed his locker shut and swung one of the straps to his backpack on his shoulder. With a heavy sigh and the sudden urge to smoke half a pack of cigarettes while watching Red Racer, he turned around and dug for his keys. Except, he dropped them in surprise when he nearly ran into Kenny, who looked up at him with doe eyes and an amused expression.

"Jesus," Craig gasped, causing the blonde to smile smugly as he clutched the straps to his threadbare bag that was probably his older brother's from kindergarten.

"Close enough," the raven-haired boy rolled his eyes but couldn't help it as he smiled slightly. "I was wondering if you wanted to give me a ride home." Craig raised an eyebrow. "Stan and Kyle are going to Fort Collins for the game and Cartman has work and-"

"Fine," the eighteen year old said, causing Kenny to grin. "But you owe me."

"I've got blunts, booze, and blow jobs. Take your pick." The older boy's jaw went slack as he stared at the blonde, who looked completely serious. That's when Craig knew this wasn't a joke.

"Um... blunts."

"Kay, but not at my house." Craig nodded; he understood exactly why.

"We can go to mine."

This seemed to elate Kenny, who walked with an extra skip in his step, along with his signature swivel of his hips. Craig glowered as he watched the imp-ish teen make his way down the hallway, to the doors of the school.

He spread his arms as they exited the building, and Kenny let out a happy whoop while he stared up at the sky. Craig watched him with raised eyebrows, although he had to admit he looked adorable as snow flakes began to fall on his face, hair, and parka.

"I'm free," was all Kenny said. He only shook his head and led the way to his car. It was an old grey Buick; the paint was beginning to chip and the cloth on the ceiling of the car had detached from the roof; he used clear thumb tacks to keep the cloth from hitting his head.

Kenny was shivering by the time they entered the car, which was weird considering he was wearing a parka. Craig said nothing as he shut his door and put the keys in the ignition. His old car rumbled to life; the muffler had literally fallen off, and whenever he started the car he would hear loud pops until he put the gear shift into "drive". Kenny gave him a look as he heard the noises and chuckled.

"I could fix that for you," he offered, rubbing his raw hands together as he held them near the vents. Craig turned the heat higher and reached over to actually open those vents. Kenny looked grateful as he waited patiently for the engine to warm up so that he, too, could be warm.

"You know how to fix cars?" Kenny nodded against Craig's disbelieving tone.

"Just because I sometimes act like a chick doesn't mean I don't know how to do shit. How else do you think my parents have their POS station wagon working? Not Kevin." Craig considered this and shrugged; he had a point. "Besides, girls know how to do that too. It's not like some sick ol' grease monkey is the only person who can work their way around a muffler... or a radiator, for that matter."

"I don't know shit about cars," Kenny just gave him a, "I just proved my point" look, and unzipped his bag. Craig glanced over and saw him pull out a Ziploc bag with already rolled joints and a loaded pipe.

"This is all I have on me, you can have two of these... I'm kinda running low, my plants aren't doing too well."

"You grow your own?" Kenny nodded.

"Hells yeah, I can't trust these assfucks. Last time I bought something I ended up tearing up my arms and tripping for like a week." Craig just nodded and watched as Kenny pulled out a Bic lighter from the pocket of his skinny jeans they all knew he borrowed from Bebe. As he took a hit, the blonde looked at him expectantly. "Well?"

"Well it's not complete shit," he was sent a toothy grin and Craig even found himself smiling back.

He could get used to this. And that's what scared him. Kenny actually made him smile, genuinely, and feel all right. Whether it was just the burst of bubbly energy or something more, he could find himself really enjoying this... hanging out with Kenny, that is.

And as he looked at the blonde who was just smiling and basking in the heat of the car, he figured that yeah, Kenny could get used to this too. And that probably wasn't a bad thing.


	2. You're Such a Dork

Author's Note: Chapters will also come in installments of two or three because they're so short and I'm not used to that. So thanks for reading even though I literally just posted a chapter like two minutes ago. But if you've taken the time to check this out, thanks. Hope you have a good one. Now I'm going to finish this shitty Starbucks (I hate Starbucks... but sleep deprived me + any coffee = slightly functioning me) and head to my last acting class.

À bientôt!

Chapter Two: You're Such a Dork:

* * *

"You're such a dork."

Craig felt his cheeks heat as he looked away from the television and at Kenny, who was leaning back in his bed with a bowl of popcorn on his chest. Today he was wearing an oversized sweater that nearly went to his knees, and a pair of ripped jeans. He looked like a small boy rather than a girl. And the sweater paws were cute, Craig decided.

"Why?" The raven-haired teen turned back to the television as the credits to "Doctor Who" ran on the screen. Kenny just shrugged and tossed a piece of popcorn in the air, then caught it in the back of his throat.

"You're like... a nerd." Craig glared, "like a good nerd, but a nerd. You still watch Red Racer-"

"You still watch Terrance and Phillip," he countered. Kenny huffed.

"Shush you," the noirette rolled his eyes and set his gaze on the blonde who was now flailing about excitedly. "You watch Red Racer and Doctor Who and obsess over Star Trek. You're just a cute little dork." Craig scoffed.

"I am _not_ cute." If anything, he was handsome. Not to sound cocky, he was just about average, but he also thought he looked kind of weird. He was lanky and pale, and occasionally his cheeks were riddled with acne he picked at rather than took care of. He just looked like...

"You are too! Why else would I hang out with you?" Craig's grey eyes narrowed on Kenny, who was practically buzzing with amusement.

"No, I'm not. There are only three people I can think of who are cute by definition. Butters, my sister, and you."

"Your sister?"

"Don't be nasty," Craig hissed, "you think Karen's cute too."

"You really think I'm cute?" Kenny asked with a genuine tone. Craig nodded. "I'm ruggedly handsome, thank you." That actually caused the eighteen year old to laugh out loud, in a barking tone that seemed to surprise Kenny.

"No, you're cute. Everyone and their brother thinks it." A quiet laugh was heard and Craig felt his breath hitch as Kenny caught his gaze.

Not even Tweek knew of his love for sci-fi shows and the occasional fan-fiction he wrote. Maybe he was a dork. But he wasn't; he never let anyone see him like this. Eyes wide and glued to the television and rambling about his theories and off-hand commentary and "why the fuck would they do that?!" No one really knew about that; because that's not what he wanted people to know him as.

But here was Kenny, laying on his bed and looking at him with adoration in his eyes and a big grin plastered on his alabaster face. And he looked as if Craig had just flown to the moon with nothing but rockets on his shoes. Not that he had ever contemplated that before.

Of course his friends knew he loved video games, and movies like Alien and War of the Worlds were a favorite by them all; but if they knew he had spastic freak outs over Eleven and Amy Pond then there would definitely be a problem.

But the fact that Kenny took an interest and asked to watch from the first episode ("the original or the reboot?" had been Craig's question) (Kenny's reply had been, "the original, duh!") made an impression on Craig. And Kenny just smiled when he saw Craig wear a scarf, or eat jelly babies he had imported, because he could thank you very much, and called him a dork. But not in a mean way. Just an endearment.

And it was nice.

When Kenny looked at him with those heavy eyes, Craig felt his insides squirm and his heart pounded loudly in his head. He hadn't truly kissed someone before that actually meant something, and he couldn't help but hope Kenny's lips tasted like strawberries. They were pink enough to, and they were thick and pouty and Craig just wanted to take one between his teeth and-

"Did you hear me?" Kenny asked, a light blush on his cheeks and his eyes lowered. Shit. Craig stared for to long. His eyes instantly averted and he cleared his throat as he unclenched his fists from the blankets.

"Wh-sorry, no..." Craig trailed off, then slowly relaxed as he turned his attention back to the television. He heard Kenny hum with quiet laughter and then sigh as he sat up from the bed.

"I said we should go make some food. And thanks for thinking I'm cute. I still think you're a dork," Craig rolled his eyes and paused the television before he stood up and walked out of the room. Kenny followed him like a puppy hot on his heels and it took all of Craig's willpower to not turn around and grab him, shove him on the wall, and assault those tantalizing lips.

But Kenny wanted food, and Craig would be able to distract himself for awhile longer. At least until Kenny left.

"What sounds good?" Craig asked, sitting on the counter even though he was much too tall and if his mom came home he'd probably get a forty-five minute lecture on how to behave in this house because he was a giant who nearly hit his head on the doorways everywhere.

"Um..." Kenny trailed off, then fell on the floor. Craig immediately hopped down and was about to go to his aid, but he found Kenny laying on his back with his eyes closed.

"...what are you doing?"

"I'm deciding what I want to eat."

Craig burst out laughing at that, and Kenny opened one eye. He chuckled softly as he watched Craig's cheeks darken with his laughter, and struggle to silence his amusement. He didn't usually laugh like that; he hated his laugh, and he didn't understand why Kenny made him feel comfortable enough to actually laugh so much his body shook.

And, before he could consider what he was doing, he was sprawled on his back next to Kenny, and closed his eyes. The linoleum felt cold on his back; he wondered if Kenny was cold.

"I'm thinking... refrigerator stuff."

"Uh-huh," Craig trailed off, his mind slowly calming down and relaxing. "I'm thinking meat."

"Like a steak." Craig snorted, "or deer. Deer is good."

"You probably think anything is good," he said offhandedly, not really thinking about what his words implied. Kenny remained silent, and Craig popped open his eyes to find him sitting up. He closed his eyes once more. Whatever, at least he wasn't calling him a poor piece of shit.

"That just means I'm not picky with my food. As long as it tastes good and I can swallow and stomach it, I'm good." Craig's face reddened. Dammit.

"What about pizza rolls?"

"Mhmm."

That was weird. The raven-haired boy opened his eyes and jumped when he saw Kenny's eyes peering into his.

"W-what're you doing?" Craig asked. He saw Kenny's lips lift in a smirk, and suddenly he couldn't breathe. "I thought you, we-"

"You're such a dork," Kenny murmured, then leaned forward and seized his lips in a gentle kiss. Craig's heart leaped in his throat and the first thing he thought was; cherries. Kenny tasted like cherries. And his lips were soft and he was really good at this and it was more than he ever thought and-

Craig tensed as Kenny straddled him. If scooted down so much as an inch then he would find out the predicament Craig was in; and he didn't want that.

He ran his thumb over Kenny's cheek and hitched a breath as the blonde's fingers threaded through his hair, tugging and pulling ever so slightly, but it was more than enough to cause problems. His lips tingled as he met Kenny's in slow, needy caresses and massages that caused his toes to curl and his mind to grow heavy with lust. No, this really couldn't happen now.

And then he put his hand in Kenny's hair and held their faces closer. The blonde gave up and rested his chest on Craig's, with one arm propping him up slightly.

Kenny parted his lips and brushed his tongue against Craig's as the taller teen took control of the kiss, and dominated his mouth. One of his hands rested on the back of his head, the other at his hip, squeezing softly.

"C-Craig?" Kenny whispered as they broke away from each other for a moment. Heavy grey eyes met dark blue, and he nodded shakily. "I... this isn't just a..."

"You're such a dork, McCormick." The blonde smiled and hummed happily as Craig captured his lips once more, and pulled him down to rest against him.


	3. You're Such a Tease

"You're such a tease," Craig grumbled. He watched as Kenny danced while he washed off his makeup from the day, and touched his face. "What, did you find a pimple?" Everyone knew Kenny had the clearest, softest skin in the school; it was even better than Bebe's.

"No," Kenny replied, running his ring finger over his cheek, to his left eye. When he pulled his finger away, the eighteen year old caught sight of masked discoloration, and he felt his stomach drop.

"Is that a bruise?" Kenny remained silent as he searched through his backpack and pulled out a small tube of concealer. Craig wasn't going to have any more of that.

In one moment he was at Kenny's side; the next he grabbed his wrists and put them behind him. Kenny tensed under his sudden force, and Craig loosened his grip. The concealer fell from Kenny's hand, onto the floor in Craig's bedroom.

He grabbed the wet cloth Kenny had been using to wash off his makeup, and dabbed at the bottom of his eyelid. Kenny winced and Craig found himself growing angrier by the second as a dark bruise was unearthed. It was amazing that his eye wasn't swollen shut.

"Who did this?" Craig asked gently; his dad had hit him a couple of times. But nothing like this. Kenny's eyes lowered and he looked around for his foundation; was that why he wore makeup all of the time? Craig felt his stomach sink in slow realization. "Kenny," it was the first time he used the blonde's name. This didn't go unrecognized by the younger boy either. "Who did this to you?"

He shook his head and looked for a way out. But Craig wasn't going to let him go until he had an answer.

"It's nothing," Kenny said, nudging Craig forward slightly. He had a way out, if he needed it. He just didn't want to be physically aggressive with Craig. He knew he could be beaten to a pulp; Craig had muscles. "I'm fine, it was just an accident. Now how about we-" Kenny pressed his mouth to Craig's collar bone and nipped the skin slightly while he rubbed their hips together.

"Tell me who did this to you," Craig was adamant and Kenny didn't need this. Or want it. He just didn't think Craig would make a big deal.

"Just drop it," was the blonde's reply, "I fingered myself thinking about you last night." That wasn't necessarily true, but the intent was to get Craig to stop prying. He saw the transition of his expression, yet it wasn't enough.

"Stop." Craig wasn't kidding around and it was starting to scare Kenny. He just didn't think it mattered; he didn't want to waste the time. "Was it your dad?" Everyone knew Stuart McCormick was abusive; in multiple ways. Substances, alcohol, emotionally, physically... this could easily be done by his father. Kenny shook his head, however. "Kevin?" Kevin had a temper; it was worse than his father's. Again, though, Kenny shook his head. "Your mom?" Carol was generally a calm, nice woman. Except when she had one too many beers. Or one too many shots of vodka. Or just a little too much stress.

This time Kenny remained still. It was his mom.

"Why...?" Craig's mom yelled at him a lot. Said he was useless, said he needed to try harder, needed to try... but she was never aggressive. Physically, at least. Kenny said nothing, and when his eyes shifted, tears rolled down his cheeks.

Craig wiped them away, and wrapped an arm around Kenny.

"Why do you care?" Kenny asked quietly, then let out a sob as Craig tightened his protective hold.

"You're my boyfriend, that's why."

The seventeen year old snapped his head up to look at Craig, who was red in the face. "What?" He continued, "we've done the dates, the making out, the sneaking around at night... I kinda thought..."

"You... you actually want me?" Kenny asked, as if this was a surprise. The noirette chuckled and hesitantly caressed Kenny's cheek. This earned him an immediate nuzzle, although it surprised Kenny. His cheeks heated even more when Craig kissed his forehead.

"Yeah, God help me, I do."

They had been doing this dance for about two months now. It was almost like who can bring more to the table... who would do more... who wanted more. They hadn't so much as made out and occasional groping, but now... now that this was out in the open...

"Did you really finger yourself thinking about me?" Craig asked, a light tint to his cheeks. Kenny let out a nervous giggle and shrugged his shoulders.

"Well... kind of. I tried."

"Tried?"

"I don't have lube..." Kenny trailed off. Craig made a face. "And... oh God, why am I telling you this?" Craig shrugged.

"I think it's kinda cute... and you're a tease. That's why." The blonde smirked.

"So I tried licking my fingers and it was a little better but my hands are small and I got a cramp in my wrist and..." the black haired teen snickered and wrapped his arm around Kenny's waist, holding him close to him. "W-why?"

"'Cause... have you never done anal before?" This seemed to cause the blonde to flush and bit down on his pierced lip.

"Yeah, but usually people want to be fucked..." Craig couldn't imagine Kenny as a top. He was too small, too... then again, Craig wouldn't necessarily mind being fucked senseless by him. In fact, that seemed kind of really hot. "What about you?" Craig shook his head.

"I've never done it before." Kenny's eyes lit up; he was working with a virgin here. That was a first.

"Oh!" They were both quieter now, and suddenly they realized they were in Craig's bedroom, in his house... alone. Suddenly the air felt tight in their lungs. "Do you... do you want me to show you?" Craig's eyes widened in slight surprise.

"Show me what?"

"What I do when I think about you..." the dark haired boy shook his head and put his arms on either side of Kenny, before lifting the smaller boy off the ground.

"No, but I can show you what I've thought about doing to you." The blonde's eyes flashed, and Craig stiffened as Kenny's legs wrapped around his waist. They met each others' lips halfway, and Kenny arched his back in response to Craig's hands squeezed his jean-clad rump.

"L-like what?" The eighteen year old silenced the younger boy by claiming his lips in a feverish kiss that sent chills down their spines. It was all lip and tongue and spit, but it left them both tingling and craving more. Kenny's knees were tucked at Craig's sides, his caps pressed against his hip bones, and his arms wrapped around his back, pulling him closer. "Hmm...?"

"Um..." Craig trailed off, cheeks darkening now with nervousness. Dirty talking wasn't his thing. This whole thing wasn't his thing... honestly he didn't know what he was doing. Craig was just going by what felt right to do, and clearly Kenny was at least enjoying it. That was reassuring.

And it wasn't as if they had messed around before... but now it felt more real. Except Craig knew there was no way in hell he would ever be able to get Kenny hot and bothered by dirty talk. It just wasn't possible. He couldn't be expected to do that... could he?

"Oh God," he blurted out, unsure if he could go through with this. Kenny just blinked, and to Craig's surprise, burst out laughing. "_What_?!"

"You," Kenny giggled, burying his head in the crook of his shoulder. Craig's face felt hot, but he really liked feeling Kenny right there. They hadn't cuddled much... Kenny was definitely the cuddly type, but Craig didn't feel very comfortable with it. "You got so scared, I thought your head was gonna explode, Jesus, I'm just teasin'..."

And then he felt Kenny's soft fingers run through his hair, tousling the slight waves caused by wearing his chullo hat nearly 24/7. And Craig felt his hitched breaths even out as he focused on the comforting feeling of Kenny's hand. Okay, he could do this. Yeah, this was definitely really nice.

Kenny smiled as Craig's body seemed to loosen in response to his touch. He was always so uptight, so tense, that it worried Kenny. So at least he could do this. He pressed a kiss to his temple and let his lips linger on the skin, then kissed down his jaw. Tender, calming, not evoking anything but gentleness. He wasn't sure what he wanted anymore; honestly cuddling seemed much better than sex right now. And even though his jeans were tight and he was all riled up, he could definitely find solace in Craig's arms... if Craig would let him, that is.

"I told you you were a tease," Craig mumbled softly, voice deeper from his current state of calm. It rumbled deep in his throat and Kenny bit his lip as it turned him on anymore. "What are you doing?"

"Helping you chill," was Kenny's response, before he pressed his lips to Craig's throat and left a tender kiss just below his Adam's apple.

The raven-haired teen felt like jelly and mush and just good things. He put a lazy arm around Kenny and lifted his hand in the back of his shirt. His fingers gently grazed over the small of his back, causing the blonde to arch his back and stop his movements temporarily. Apparently that felt good.

"Don't do that," Kenny murmured in a purr. Craig continued, however, and his free hand tended to the golden waves that tickled his chin.

"If I'm chill, you gotta be chill with me," the noirette simply explained. At that, Kenny couldn't help but bite back an excited grin. Curiously, he rested his head on Craig's chest and was met with a gentle hand rubbing his back; his fingernails barely scraped over his skin. Kenny shuddered and closed his eyes at the almost tickling sensation.

And soon their touches and caresses stopped. Soon Kenny lay on top of Craig, with his head tucked into the crook of his arm and his small legs tangled with Craig's lanky limbs. Craig had one arm around him, and his chin rested against the top of the blonde's head. Both of them were mostly asleep, but too afraid to move or say anything to break this moment.

It was terrifying for Craig, and perfect for Kenny. And that was a lot like how everything was for them.

"Craig?" Kenny whispered; he received no reply and tried to bite back his nerves. Except as he saw the older boy's chest rise and fall with deep, even breaths, he knew he was asleep. "I love you, Craig," Kenny whispered, then burrowed his face in his arm, eyes wide open.

Craig stared up at the ceiling, unsure of what to say or do or how he could keep himself from moving as he heard the younger boy's admission. What could be said? Many things. But none of them would be what Craig could say.

So he remained still and quiet, and kept up that even breath of his currently relaxed state. Because it didn't scare him. In fact, if he wasn't so timid, Craig would have said it first. But his response would have to wait... he knew it would. For now they could lay, comfortable in their embrace for the first time, with wide eyes and thunderous hearts as they realized this was more than they had ever thought. This was real. More real than anything else... and for the first time Craig wanted to try.


	4. You're Such a Sweetheart

_Author's Note: Well, this one was originally a lot different. But I kind of like how this turned out. Now I'm off to churn out Butters' Guide chapters. Thanks for reading/reviewing!_

* * *

"You're such a sweetheart," Kenny cooed affectionately as he held the single white rose in his hand. He closed his eyes as he breathed in the light scent, and Craig shrugged as he sat next to him on Kenny's bed.

"Not really," Kenny scoffed and gave him a look before he left his room.

They didn't really like going to Kenny's house; well, Craig didn't really mind. But Kenny did; and Craig could understand why.

It was depressing. Even when no one was home he could feel the tension, and the frigid air from the cracked walls and tin roof ceiling didn't help either. He didn't think it was fair for Kenny, or any of them, to live in these conditions; he didn't know how Stan or Kyle could let this go on without helping.

Butters did, though. And so did Bebe. If Butters couldn't take in Kenny and Karen for a couple of nights, then Bebe would take Kenny's sister and treat her to makeovers while Butters tried talking some sense into his best friend. But Kenny and Karen would always return to their roots, to their broken home, and find comfort in sharing the same bed; at least it was warmer.

But right now Kenny was home alone; which is why they were there. Craig's parents were having a dinner party and he definitely didn't want to be around for that. He could have easily gone to see Clyde, Token, or Tweek, but... Kenny.

Looking around Kenny's room was even more depressing. There were two posters of women with unrealistic breasts, a broken twin mattress on the floor, a grey sheet, a broken lamp, and a broken aquarium with trash inside of it.

The blonde returned with an open beer bottle. He immediately put the rose in it, and Craig gave him a look.

"What? It's water..." Kenny trailed off, then set the rose on the floor next to his mattress. Craig put an arm around the small boy, who curled into his embrace and rested his head on his shoulder. "You can go hang out with Token or Tweek or something..." Craig shrugged.

"Nah, this is okay." Honestly, Craig was freezing his ass off and he didn't know how Kenny could do it... but it was worth it. He thought it was at least. And that's what mattered.

The seventeen year old simply hummed at that and pressed a tender kiss to Craig's lips. His hand rested on Kenny's cheek; his thumb caressed the soft skin, and Kenny leaned forward to capture more of the kiss.

They lay down on their sides, kissing and running their hands down each others' sides and under their shirts. Craig nipped Kenny's lip and ran his teeth over one of his two lip piercings, before he dove his tongue back in Kenny's mouth. The quiet moan that sounded from the back of Kenny's throat encouraged him, and soon he found himself on top of Kenny, who had his still-clothed legs spread and hips arched as Craig hovered over him.

"Happy anniversary," Craig whispered, causing a hum of delight from the blonde.

"It's like... three months," Kenny replied with a gleam in his eyes. "But happy anniversary to you too."

"Do you..." the raven haired boy trailed off, biting his lip as he looked at the younger boy, who gazed up at him expectantly. "Do you want to um... go on a date?"

Kenny's cheeks flushed and immediately Craig realized he thought he was going to say something else. The blonde just leaned back on his hands and sighed softly.

"Where to?"

And that's how they ended up driving 85 down the highway belting out the lyrics to "Carry On My Wayward Son", with Kenny taking up a killer air guitar solo. Neither of them knew where they were going, or where they wanted to go, but it was warm in the car and for the first time the chains tying them to South Park felt truly broken. They could do anything, be anything, and the idea of just escaping for awhile, forgetting who they were and where they were from... well, that was what kept them going.

Because if this had been between anyone else, they would be told to stop, turn around, to change their minds and head back home. It was too risky, too dangerous of a decision for either of them to make. Except as they belted out the words to the classic rock songs playing over Craig's piece of shit Buick and driving westbound, they realized that this wasn't dangerous or risky or anything of the sort; it was what they needed.

And maybe it wasn't a stereotypical date. Maybe they should have gone to dinner or seen a movie... but this felt right. Just driving on the open road until they ran out of gas... it just seemed like them. And as Craig glanced over at Kenny, whose blonde locks were ruffled by the wind pouring through the open windows, he felt this was the best decision he had ever made. Because there was light in Kenny's eyes, holy shit he had done that, and he wanted to continue to be able to do that.

No one ever said Craig didn't care about anyone; they just thought it. And sometimes Craig believed it. But as he looked at Kenny, who just looked as if he were on top of the world, he knew that wasn't the case one bit. He was just awkward, and expressing himself was difficult. Maybe he never would be able to... not how he would truly want to.

But little steps counted, little things would be in his favor, if he acted on them rather than grew nauseated by the anxiety of acting on his wants and desires. For anything, really. Pretending to be apathetic was far easier than dealing with the near-crippling anxiety he faced when making a decision. Especially one like this.

Except he didn't care; and not in the apathetic way. This was the restless wanderer way, the way where everything would turn out okay even if what they were doing went to shit, and fast. This felt like being carefree, rather than not caring. This felt like happiness.

It's not like they were running away into the sunset and leaving everything and everyone behind; although that is something Craig had considered on more than one occasion. No, this was just slipping through the cracks and disappearing for awhile.

And then he heard the whimper beside him. Craig glanced to Kenny and saw tears had flooded his face and his shoulders wracked with violent sobs as he broke down. It appeared it was the first time he had been allowed to do so. The small boy covered his mouth and muffled his cries with his hand.

Craig stopped the car and unbuckled his seat belt. Kenny curled his legs to his chest and buried his head in his knees; this prohibited Craig from acting on the sudden impulse to wipe his tears away, or kiss his forehead. Instead, he wrapped his arm around the petite boy and held onto him tightly.

The radio played a Guns 'N Roses song as Craig clutched Kenny close to him and remained silent as he tried his best to comfort him. But he figured it just wasn't good enough; after all, he was still crying. He was still shaking, and he didn't think there was anything he could do to stop it.

"What's wrong?" Craig asked. He heard a woeful laugh, muffled by his body, and felt Kenny's head rest on his chest. Craig closed his eyes and ran a tentative hand through the blonde's shoulder-length waves.

"I just..." Kenny trailed off in a weepy voice. his eyeliner was slightly smudged, and Craig wiped at it gently, earning a slight wince from Kenny. He had bruises there. "I'm never getting out of South Park, I just want this... I just want to be happy. I don't want to hurt anymore, Craig."

The raven-haired boy gazed down at Kenny, who grasped his shirt between his small fingers.

"I'll help you," Craig finally said, "fuck South Park, fuck everyone. You're getting out of there, and fuck, you're not gonna hurt. Okay? No one is going to hurt you." A hollow laugh sounded and Kenny shook his head. "Do you trust me?"

Kenny looked up slowly and caught Craig's gaze. He gave a nod, and took in a hitched breath as the raven-haired boy touched his cheek.

"I'm going to help you."

Small arms wrapped around him and squeezed him tight. All Craig could do is just hold Kenny and give him that silent reassurance that his words were true. He would do anything in his power to help Kenny.

"I love you," Craig whispered into his hair. He then pressed their foreheads together and his thumb brushed Kenny's wet cheek, wiping away the tears that continued to stream down his face. "I really do, and I want to help you... I don't know how. I don't know why. But if you let me try... I'll try." Kenny sniffled and smiled up at him through his tears.

"You love me?" The grey-eyed boy gave him a look.

"Didn't I just-" he stopped himself, then sighed softly, "Yeah, yeah I do..."

"What you said..." Kenny trailed off, his fingers toying with the threadbare cuffs of his sleeves, "is more than anyone has been willing to do for me." Craig shook his head, "and it means so much to me. I love you, I love you too... so much it scares me." The eighteen year old remained silent with Kenny trembling in his arms. He then nodded.

"Me too." Kenny laughed through his tears, a real laugh, and instead of shining with tears they glowed with happiness. Craig smiled back, and ran a hand through his hair once more.

"Can we just... forget about South Park? Just for awhile. Just drive to a new place, be new people... be everything we want to be but can't because of South Park. Forget our families, friends, names... just disappear?" Kenny asked as Craig started driving down the highway once more.

He was silent as he considered this. There was something more that Kenny wasn't saying; he would try to find out later. For now he could enable this idea, let Kenny just forget about everything and everyone, in an imaginary world they could so easily think up when they were ten years old... but now it seemed too difficult.

"Yeah, except..." Craig began as he tapped his fingers against the steering wheel to Led Zeppelin's "Good Times Bad Times", "why don't we just be... well... us?" Kenny peered at him for a brief moment, then a smile gradually spread on his face. He took Craig's hand in his and bit back a smile as the older boy squeezed his hand.

Because who they wanted to be was just... them. But money and people and societal pressure disillusioned their way of thinking and made them try their best to fall in line. But now Kenny could feel comfortable wearing his makeup and girl clothes, and Craig could be comfortable holding hands with another boy without the constant fear of his parents finding out.

And that was nice. And everything Craig wanted.

"I like that," Kenny whispered, then rested his head on Craig's shoulder. He nodded, and draped his arm around Kenny. This felt right... just for awhile.

"Me too."

At least for awhile they didn't have to pretend.


	5. You're So Quiet

_Author's Note: A lot more happened in this one then I planned. I also sense longer chapters soon. Thanks for reading :). _

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"You're so quiet... why is that?"

Craig opened his eyes and down at Kenny, who lay burrowed in his chest. His small fingers were drawing random shapes on his stomach, and Craig's muscles twitched a couple of times from the slight tickle.

Kenny was listening to his heart; the calm, steady beat sped up at his question, and he could see the sudden surprise in his eyes when he glanced up. This was something Craig didn't want to talk about.

Craig had always been apathetic and a little moody. Kenny used to pass it off with the thought of, "he's just an asshole" but then he began to wonder. Did something happen to him? The Tucker family, from what he had seen when dropping Karen off to hang out with Ruby, was tense at best. They were nothing more than a facade; as if they were built on a bunch of lies with a single truth holding them all together. Except, the more he thought about it, he wondered if it was the opposite; if it was a simple lie holding them all together.

They seemed broken, not like his family. But threadbare, worn down, tired of putting up the good fight. Literally broken. Not just fucked up.

Kenny was convinced something happened to Craig as a kid. Honestly he would be more surprised if something hadn't. He didn't really have an idea as to what, specifically, the possibilities were endless, but it bothered him. He seemed almost depressed, not like Stan, but in his own way. Lack of interest in the world was a symptom of depression... and so was apathy.

"I dunno," was Craig's mumbled answer. He felt tense beneath Kenny, and the blonde curled his legs closer, and tightened their hold around Craig's leg. He swore he felt the older boy try to pull away.

"Did... did something ever happen to you?" Kenny whispered, soft against his chest. The blonde heard his heart drum furiously against his ear for a brief moment, before Craig coughed and pulled away from the seventeen year old. He sat up, far away from him, and looked at the wall. "I-I'm sorry, I just... I just wondered."

Kenny felt his anger, hot like a knife that could cut through the tension in the room. That could burn into his skin.

"Fuck you," Craig spat, standing now. Kenny's' eyes widened at the words, "get the hell out of my room."

"W-whu..." he trailed off, unsure what to say or how to feel at this sudden twist in Craig's emotions. Craig was the one who wanted to cuddle, not him. Not this time. And now here he was, kicking him out.

But it was his fault, he said too much, said the wrong thing... and now Craig was pulling away. More like... pushing him away. Don't get too close, don't let anyone know the soul beneath the surface. Guilt stung sharp in Kenny's heart, and his lip trembled as he fought of tears.

His dad was right... he probably should have been a girl for as much as he cried.

"I'm sorry, I just... don't kick me out?" Kenny asked with a soft, wavering voice. Craig just pointed to the door, and Kenny felt his heart clatter to the floor, and shatter as he realized he was just like everyone else. Maybe there really wasn't a reason Craig was so withdrawn. Maybe it was just him after all. But of course, he jumped to conclusions, of course he opened his big mouth.

And now here he was, walking home in the bitter March air. Walking home to screaming and broken bottles and syringes on the floor. To bruises, no roof, to suffocating tension. To the place where everyone but his sister thought he was a freak.

And he couldn't go to Kyle or Stan's because they were out on another date. Cartman was working, and the last time he was at Cartman's alone he ended up fucking his mom because he was high and she was desperate. Butters was tutoring the freshman and had to do his own homework, and Butters' parents didn't like him. Bebe was with Wendy working on some project and would be with Butters later. And Craig probably wanted to wring his neck. Token lived too far away. Tweek was at work. Wendy always felt awkward around him.

So he had nowhere to go but home.

He just wanted to feel free again. He could run away, change his name, be who he wanted to be. He could break the invisible shackles on his ankles and run for the hills. Everyone was too invested in their own lives to care anyway; Kyle and Stan had each other, Bebe and Butters had each other, Cartman and Wendy were obsessed with success, Token, Clyde and Tweek only hung out with him because of Craig. And Craig... Craig probably wouldn't care much, either. He said he loved him. But how much could he love him if he wouldn't let him in?

Kenny could go to California. Or Romania. As far away from here as humanly possible. He just wanted to go.

But it was all just talk in his head. He'd never leave South Park. He'd never leave his friends, his family, or Craig.

So he found himself at Stark's Pond, staring at the reflection of the moon on the ice. He held a joint in his hand and felt the sweet burn in the back of his throat. All he was doing was over-thinking; Craig was just pissed at him, he didn't hate him. Craig wouldn't do that.

He always over-reacted. Kenny couldn't help it. And it always got him into trouble.

How could he expect Craig to have a reason for being the way he was? Did Kenny have a reason for wearing makeup and girl clothes half the time? He just felt like it. It was him. And Craig was quiet and aloof because it was him, too.

But everyone wondered and everyone talked. Then again, everyone talked about a lot of things and Kenny didn't really fit in with "everyone else". Except now he did, and now he felt like shit. He doubted Craig would want to hear an apology right now, and he'd tell Kenny not to waste the minutes, anyway.

So Kenny shivered and stood up from the park bench. He tightened the hood around his face to protect his skin; his eyes prickled from the bitter night air. His parka did him little protection anymore; it was so old.

He took the long way home so he would avoid Craig's house. He didn't want Craig to think he was stalking him; and there he was over-thinking again. The blonde shook his head and wrapped his arms around himself as he ventured home through the snowy night. All he paid attention to was the sound of the snow crunching beneath his feet and the sound of the flakes falling on the blanket of white that covered the ground. He ignored the numbness in his feet as the snow melted on his boots, soaking through the holes in the canvas, passed his hole-ridden socks, and onto his feet. He ignored the wind that felt as if it were striking his face and digging its nails in his hands.

The seventeen year old walked up his driveway and watched one of the stray cats run under the house. He pocketed his hands and stepped up the cinder block steps, and opened the rotted door. Inside, he found his parents having sex on the couch, as they usually did before they'd start screaming at each other. Kenny kept silent and tip-toed to his room; his eyes stared at the floor to avoid seeing things he had seen too much of, and to watch out for stray needles. He just wanted to slip by unnoticed.

And he did.

He just wasn't expecting to be anyone in his room, so he covered his mouth as he let out a loud yelp. Craig raised his eyebrows and pulled out the earbuds in his ears.

"Took you long enough," Kenny just stared at him and slowly unzipped his parka. He instantly regretted this decision, and hugged himself tight as he walked on his broken mattress, to the head of the bed, and sat down. He rested his back against his stained and lumpy pillow, and looked to Craig curiously.

"How long have you been here?"

"I dunno," Craig shrugged and pulled out a cigarette. Kenny followed suit and instantly felt himself warm up as he breathed in the smoke. The burn was nice.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have..." Kenny trailed off, "you're just you. And that's okay with me."

Craig was silent as he lay back on his pillow. He stared up at the tin roof; there were holes in the metal, so he could actually see some stars. He grimaced as a pile of snow fell from the sheet onto the bed; how could Kenny deal with this?

"Shut up," the raven haired boy murmured, brushing the snow away. He watched in slight amazement as Kenny grabbed a crumpled beer can and carefully put the snow in the aluminum can.

"It's cleaner than the sink water," Kenny murmured with a slight blush on his cheeks. He saw the expression on Craig's face; crestfallen, "sorry," Craig told him to 'shut up' after all. Usually that meant total silence. His patience with Kenny was probably running thin today, as it sometimes did because sometimes Craig felt more introverted than usual and didn't want to be around anyone.

"Don't apologize, I can buy you bottles of water." Kenny shrugged and lowered his head slightly. "I..." Craig trailed off, flicking the ashes into a cut up beer can; Kenny's makeshift ash tray. It worked well, except when Kenny stepped on it in the middle of the night.

They were silent for awhile, Kenny wasn't sure if he should say anything or wait for Craig to finish speaking, or just lay in this suddenly awkward silence. It was mostly awkward because they could hear his parents having sex, which made Kenny nauseous to even think about, but also because there was this tension that Kenny absolutely hated.

"I..." Craig began again, then fell short, unsure of what to say. Kenny slowly turned to him. "People think there is something wrong with me, that I'm the way I am for a reason. My parents just told my family it was a phase and that I was quiet or some , ten years later and I'm the same fucking way. It's not that I want to be quiet... I just... I'm awkward." He paused for a moment, "why do I have to be fucked up? Why can't I just be... an asshole?"

"You're right," Kenny mumbled, biting the skin around his thumb. Blood trickled down his finger, and he tentatively licked it away.

"I'm just me. I'm a dick, I'm quiet and awkward and fucking weird... but I like boring shit. If people are gonna pick out the fact that I'm a douche who doesn't talk then they can also say I'm too tall and I'm weirdly pale. They're pointing out the obvious and it doesn't fucking matter."

"I know," the blonde replied sadly,

"I was adopted."

Kenny's eyes snapped up to look at Craig, who was staring up at the sky from the holes in the tin roof.

"I'm not supposed to know. I don't think my parents will ever tell me. It's why no picture exists of me before the age of two. Because I didn't exist in their lives before then."

"Wh... Craig, how did they not _tell_ you?" Kenny exclaimed, unsure of how to take this kind of news.

It made sense, the more he thought about it. Craig looked nothing like his family, other than the fact that he was tall like his parents.

"I don't fucking know."

So that was it. That was the thing that Craig didn't talk about. The fact that he was adopted and he wasn't supposed to know. But he did. He wouldn't say such a thing unless he had the proof; Craig wasn't a liar, that was for sure. He just avoided answering completely.

"I... I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize," the eighteen year old replied, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I've never told anyone before. I just... I always knew I was different as a kid. Like there was this strain... and then I found the papers when I was playing in my parent's room one day. I think I would've been happier if I found a dildo or something," Kenny snorted at that, "but... that doesn't make me quiet or anything. It just makes me feel..." Craig trailed off, then shrugged his shoulders.

Confused, dysfunctional, disoriented, completely off kilter. Lost.

"Do you know who your biological parents are?" Craig shook his head. He sighed as he felt snow drop on his face, and wiped away the droplet. Kenny's eyes were closed, and Craig grimaced as he felt another drop on his hand. He glanced down and stared in surprise.

"Kenny?" the blonde opened his eyes when he heard the tone in Craig's voice, "I'm bleeding."

The blonde quickly glanced to his boyfriend and blanched. A river of blood was flowing from Craig's nose, and had already stained his clothes and on his sheets. It was dark, and appeared as if someone had hit him, hard.

"U-uh, shit..." Kenny trailed off, then scrambled up and grabbed a t-shirt of his. He balled it in his hand and knelt in front of Craig, then pressed it to his nose. "It's bleeding a lot... tilt your head forward a bit, hon," The endearment slipped easily off his tongue; he was usually in this predicament with Butters. "Here hold this, I'm gonna get another and clean this... shit..."

Kenny got rid of the bloody sheet and found one of his nicer shirts this time; it would have to do. He unzipped Craig's hoodie and wiped away the streaked blood.

"I have anemia," Craig said quietly, Kenny sighed and bit his lip. He wasn't sure if that would be a cause or an effect of a nosebleed. But by the way Craig acted, this didn't really seem normal.

"Just keep squeezing your nose, okay?" Kenny held the shirt to his nose and sat in front of him, "here, get your arm out of this..." Craig managed to wriggle his lanky arm out of his hoodie, and grimaced as Kenny pulled the other sleeve off. He discarded it on the ground and sat with Craig as they waited for the blood to stop.

Five minutes went by... then ten. Then fifteen. Finally, a half an hour had passed and the blood still hadn't stopped, or even slowed. Craig looked paler than usual, and he looked a little nauseous. Kenny whimpered, and pulled the towel away.

"I... I can't stop this... we need to get you looked at."

Craig stiffened as he heard Kenny's words, then slowly nodded once.

Kenny put his arm around Craig's back and helped him stand. He draped his long arm over his shoulders and supported his weight as best as he could. Craig stumbled slightly, and Kenny whimpered.

"It's okay..." he whispered, to calm both Craig as well as himself, "it's okay, you're gonna be okay." Kenny felt a couple of drips on his skin and grimaced, yet said nothing.

"It'll be okay," Craig assured him, giving a lethargic squeeze to his shoulder, "I just... don't feel very good."

Kenny faltered as he felt Craig go limp in his arms as he passed out.

"It's okay," Kenny whispered as he opened his parents' station wagon with his foot, then managed to somehow get Craig inside, "it'll be okay..."


	6. You're So Worried

Author's Note: *stares at this chapter* Well, this story is going to be longer than I thought. I also edited it. I added more; I was too quick to publish this chapter. Sorry!

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"You're so worried," Craig mumbled as Kenny sat next to him at the lunch table. He looked into the blonde's baby blues that were etched with bags and contained an anxious glint. "It was just a nosebleed." Kenny shrugged and took his hand under the table.

Craig still looked wrecked even though a week had passed. He never quite lost the exhausted, frail look in his body, and he seemed to struggle with walking at times, or staying awake. It worried Kenny, of course he was a nervous wreck; he just wanted to make sure Craig was okay.

It was almost annoying to the raven-haired boy, but it was cute too. He never really had anyone to be scared for him. Of course, there was never any reason to, but it was... different. Not a good different because there was nothing wrong and Kenny was fussing over nothing, but it wasn't bad either because it was nice to know someone had the decency to care.

"Hey, fellas!" Butters chirped, sitting down across from Kenny, who waved brightly at his best friend. "Are you still coming to the show tonight?"

Right. The show Kenny was dragging Craig to; the show that Butters and Bebe had co-wrote together and spent a year working on. It was a part of their graduation requirement; and Kenny was ecstatic to finally see the show they had been so secretive about. That, and it was the show that brought the two blondes to the relationship they had. Bebe soon sat next to Butters and handed Kenny a bagel.

"Lovebirds," she said with a smirk; of course Kenny blushed and busied himself with his bagel. Craig just rolled his eyes; it was a wonder he was actually convinced to sit there. But at least Stan and Kyle weren't there; they decided to eat off campus today, something about a stupid anniversary that Kenny had rambled on about ont he drive to school. And Cartman didn't want to sit with the blonde brigade, plus their raven extension.

"Shut up," Kenny said, cheeks a fiery pink as he picked off a small piece of the bagel and chewed on it tentatively. Craig grimaced; he didn't think about bringing any food for Kenny. Maybe he should start doing that. "And yeah, I took the night off. I wouldn't miss it for the world!" He chirped excitedly. Butters beamed and Bebe held up a triumphant fist.

Craig didn't know how Butters and Bebe worked; all their lives they thought Butters was gay, even though he was adamant about liking girls; specifically Kim Kardashian. But now here he and Bebe were, together for six months and never happier. And in a weird way they worked well. Kenny had played matchmaker with them, and considering Kenny had dated Bebe for a year prior and had a thing for Butters after that, Craig thought it was a little weird. But they were a trio that couldn't be separated, he supposed. Kenny was like their little brother, in a sense. The fact that they were all blonde added to that idea.

Kind of like how he and Tweek were. Except, to go against the rumors, neither of them had ever liked each other. Craig just cared deeply for his best friend, and would probably do anything to make sure he was okay. The same would be said for Token and Clyde, though they just didn't understand him like Tweek did. And then there was Kenny, who didn't question, just accepted and let things be.

It was a breath of fresh air, being with Kenny. There were no expectations, he wasn't pushy, and honestly Craig hadn't laughed like that in years... or ever, really. Kenny was silly, and adorable, and what started as infatuation and lust turned into something more... something that scared Craig.

Because he loved Kenny. He was so used to his energy and brightness that it kind of wormed its way into his own heart. Although he didn't express it, he wasn't so apathetic, he cared more about things, and was able to say more of what he meant and felt than before. It wasn't much, but it was more than he ever could. And it scared him more than anything.

There was a reason everyone adored Kenny; it was because he was such a good person. There were rumors, there was truth behind the rumors, but just being around him was enough to realize that what was said didn't matter. What he did didn't matter. He was just a ball of energy and optimism, and he had this hum about him, this constant glow... in his hair, his eyes, his cheeks... he was always smiling. Always happy, even when Craig knew he just wanted to break down and give up. He was beautiful, Craig decided as he watched the blonde talk animatedly to his friends.

"U-uh Craig?" Butters said suddenly, amidst Bebe's laugh and Kenny's weird silly voice as he was going on about something Craig wasn't quite sure he understood.

"Yeah?" the eighteen year old asked, then felt something drip down on his hand. He glanced down and sighed heavily.

"Shit," Craig whispered, grabbing a napkin and wiping the spot of blood away. Kenny's ghost of a smile faded and he scurried from the table, to return moments later with napkins. Butters joined him and purchased a bottle of juice; that was smart thinking, Craig thought as he put the napkin to his nose and pinched the soft spot just about the bridge.

"Are you okay?" Bebe asked, Craig nodded and ignored her nervous expression. He didn't need the entire blonde brigade to worry.

"It's fine. This happens." Well, it happened last week, and three days ago, and last night. He hadn't told Kenny about the other times. He didn't want him to fret even more than he was.

The younger boy was at his side in a heartbeat, and bit his lip when Craig stood up to toss the already stained napkin. This wasn't something to deal with around a lunch table, anyway.

So he walked to bathroom, clutching his nose and keeping napkins practically wedged up his nostrils to stop the bleeding.

As he suspected, he heard the cafeteria doors screech open and the soft padding of feet running behind him. Kenny seemed to do a little hop as he slowed to Craig's pace, taking four steps for his every two, and then burst ahead of him to open the door.

"What is going on?" Kenny asked weakly, his face ashen as he leaned against the bathroom wall. Craig shrugged and tossed the two napkins in the trash can. "You have to go to the doctor." He pushed. Craig sighed heavily and shook his head.

"Kenny-"

"No, Craig, listen to me. I'm terrified, okay? You're not eating, you're stumbling, you're always tired... and this is the second time your nose has bled like this. Something is wrong and I-"

"I have anemia," Craig spat a little angrily, causing Kenny to take a step back, "so excuse me if I don't feel up to things. Now either shut up or go away." Kenny glared at him, which took him by surprise for a moment. There was no trace of that bubbly energy. Instead Craig felt as if his blood had run cold.

"Fuck you," Kenny growled; he sent one last glower and threw the juice Butters had bought, then exited the bathroom. The door slammed on his way out.

Craig just rolled his eyes and tossed the fourth napkin in the trash can.

This would stop eventually, as it always did.

And it did... twenty minutes later he staggered out of the restroom, sipping the grape juice and blinking furiously as his vision went in and out of focus. He made his way to the office; by the time he reached the door he was leaning on the wall, and grunted as he used most of his energy to open the door.

"Can... can I have a pass?" He asked weakly, then stumbled forward. The secretary gave him an odd look, questioning his state of mind, and folded her arms. "I... I had a nosebleed... I'm late to c-class." He spoke slower, his words slurred, and he shook his head.

"A nosebleed?" She asked disbelievingly. He nodded and rested his head on his hands, then closed his eyes. He felt himself drift to sleep, then was startled by a loud thump. "There's your pass, and this is your fifth, so you have two hour-long detentions," he just rolled his eyes and took the sticky note. "Three, Tucker."

"Fine," he growled, then flipped her off before he slammed the door shut.

He was shaking by the time he made it to physics. He set the pass on the desk, ignored his teacher's questions, and staggered as he walked to the back of the class. Tweek watched him with wide eyes, and twitched when Craig finally sat down.

"D-dude!" the blonde cried, twitching violently at his outburst, "g-go agh! Home!"

Craig just shook his head and stared at the notes on the board, then began working on the calculations for the bond. This was normal. He liked physics. He could concentrate on that.

Except... as he looked back up, this wasn't physics. This was English.

"Fuck, what?" He whispered, looking down at his notes. He spent twenty minutes writing notes on Charles Dickens... where was the equation? The covalent bonds? The...

"Craig Tucker, please report to the office. Craig Tucker."

All eyes in the room focused on him and Tweek stood up as well. The eighteen year old just pushed him off and clutched his head as he walked out of the room. He didn't see Kenny on his way out.

Walking down the hall was a chore. His legs were like mush and he leaned against the wall, trying to regain his strength, trying to catch his breath. He felt as if he were spinning a thousand miles a minute, and his temples pounded like angry fists against his skull. He felt like he was going to throw up.

He just needed more iron. He'd go home and ask his mom to tell the doctor to up his intake. That would solve everything.

Except, as he entered the office, he faltered. He saw his mom. Her tall, slender body was rigid, her blonde hair tucked in a slightly messy bun, which was odd for her, and worry lines had found their way on her face. Did the school think he was drunk?

"Uh..." he trailed off as he entered the office. The secretary grabbed some papers and walked to the back offices, leaving him and his mom alone.

"Craig, grab your bag, we need to talk." Her tone was sharp and he stiffened.

"Fine." He flipped her off as he turned and before he knew it, he was falling. He reached for something to grab on to, and heard some glass decoration break as he managed to clutch the end of the counter.

He felt his mom's arms around him and felt something drip onto his neck. Not again. He just got it under control.

Except as he wiped at it, it was a tear.

His mom was crying.

His eyes widened and he looked at her, saw the tears falling down her face, saw the shaking in her shoulders and he tilted his head. She never cried. She didn't show any emotion except anger when bottling it up became too difficult.

But she looked sad and scared and stressed. As if her whole world had crumbled.

"Is Ruby okay?" She had stayed home sick today. She had a terrible immune system... it ran in the family. His mother nodded.

"Craig... now is not the time to have this discussion." Craig pulled away from her outstretched arm; he didn't want to feel her vacant embrace.

He gritted his teeth and clenched his fists.

"What. Discussion." He didn't ask, but barked this statement. He wasn't questioning, because as far as he knew there was no reason they needed to talk. They never talked. About anything.

"Honey," he cringed at that. This was bad. "Not here, not now..."

"Tell me!" He screamed and swore his grey blue eyes sparked. He felt as if his voice could shatter the windows in the office, and bring this school crumbling down. He hated playing these games, and he hated it even more when people just didn't cut to the chase.

"Craig..."

"Stop saying my fucking name and just tell me, God dammit!"

He heard a sob from his mother and felt himself freeze. Not in a shocked manner, but in a sense that he understood now. And it hurt. It felt like the building had crumbled and had fallen on him. She wouldn't be crying like this if there wasn't a reason. She wouldn't be here in the first place, taking him out of school, for no reason.

"You... you have leukemia. The blood tests came back, the biopsy came back. I'm taking you to the hospital."

Craig trembled and suddenly time stood still.

"What... what biopsy? I didn't..."

Then he remembered; they had done a biopsy when he went to the emergency room.

They had suspected then and hadn't said a fucking thing.

He had cancer.

He had leukemia?

Craig stared at his hands. They shook violently.

"Craig..." his mom sobbed, he shook his head and stepped away from her open arms.

"No..." he trailed off, backing up even farther, to the door. "No, no... this... _no_..."

He bolted from the room, nearly lost his balance as he pushed open the door, and pushed his way through the mob of high school cattle trying to get out of the building as fast as they could. He felt his eyes burn, and wiped at his wet cheeks, then shoved his way through his peers, acquaintances, and friends. Orange and blonde hair caught his eye, and in a flurry he pushed his way passed, shoved the small body away, and ran as fast as he could away from the school, from people, from his friends and family, from everyone.

Craig ran until his legs finally gave out and his head swam with dizziness and fatigue. His stomach flipped, and without shame, he turned his head and vomited. Tears leaked from his eyes and his lungs hurt, his head hurt, his body ached as his shoulders wracked with sobs and he gasped for air. He couldn't breathe.

"FUCK!" He screamed, his voice like ice in the snowy afternoon. He swore his cry rang through all of South Park, echoing on and on for all to hear.

Except he found himself alone, sitting in the snow, crying, and puking, and bleeding, and unable to wrap his head around the fact that he had cancer.

And he felt perfectly healthy.

All he wanted was to understand, to know this wasn't a trick, to know that he was going to be okay.

"Craig?"

The eighteen year old looked up and saw Kenny with a cut lip clutching his arm as he walked up to him. He was hesitant, yet sat down when Craig said nothing. Only his quiet, uncharacteristic sobs filled the air. He didn't cry... he never cried...

And then he felt Kenny's arms wrap around him. And he was warm, and he was good, and he was energy. Craig squeezed him tight and let out a moan of agony as his cries ripped through his chest, down a river from his eyes, onto Kenny's parka.

"Everything is gonna be okay," Kenny whispered, his voice straining. Craig could smell Kenny's blood... healthy blood. Not like his. "I've got you, it's okay..."

Craig clutched to his parka tighter and buried his head in Kenny's small chest. He felt the younger boy's hand run through his hair and kiss his head. Even if it was a lie, Kenny didn't know. And as long as Kenny didn't know, Craig could hold on to that sliver of belief as well.


	7. You're So Calm

_Author's Note: Thanks for reading! I didn't think this was going to go on that long, but... I feel like I'm going to double up on how many chapters I was originally thinking. Yay? Or nay? I dunno. But this is going into a horrible bout of depressing as I knew this would... when have I ever written a happy story? On a different note, this is giving me ideas for yet another story. :P And by the way, I do know what I'm talking about with this... one of my friends had anemia, and later had leukemia. _

* * *

"You're so calm," a nurse told Craig after she gave him a blanket. He just stared ahead with glassy eyes and tried his best to ignore the fact he was freezing and highly uncomfortable in a hospital gown. He was cold. He swore his fingers were going to fall off.

He told Kenny he would see him later and explain to him... but how could he explain this? How could he explain he had leukemia?

Kenny had wanted to come with him, but Craig couldn't bear that. Not when he was learning about his state; what treatment he'd have to go through, what options he had, what stage...

His mom told him to be hopeful. That they probably caught it early enough that radiation and chemo would be enough. Or maybe just radiation, if he was extremely lucky. But Craig didn't think that was how this worked. Usually when you started noticing the signs, then you had a problem. And if he was feeling ill because he had leukemia... well, it had gone on for months. He just tied it with his anemia.

He had bad blood. Maybe they could just drain it, get him new bone marrow, new blood cells, new everything. He knew that's not how it worked... but he didn't want to go through this. He was a boring kid. He was normal. This stuff didn't happen to him.

Except here he was with him mother, and his father and sister were in the waiting room. Another facade, showing the world they care about one another, when in fact talking to his mother today was more than he had said to her in three weeks. His father? Even less than that.

And if they were going to suddenly care, then he'd kindly tell them to fuck off. He wanted normalcy. He didn't want sugar-coated bullshit laced with passive-aggression.

A knock was heard on the door and suddenly his stomach twisted with nausea. He didn't want to know. Couldn't he just skip this? Find a way to avoid the diagnosis and the steps to get better. He didn't want this at all.

"Mr. Tucker, I'm Dr. Sorenson, chief of oncology here at Denver General. I have your file here..." he was hesitant. He didn't look at him. Dr. Sorenson sat across from him and stared at the clipboard. "You have acute T-lymphoblastic leukemia, which means you have too many immature white blood cells. We have three options to discuss with you, but first I would like to address any questions?" Craig rubbed his wrist.

"Am I going to die?"

He didn't want to die; he was just about two months away from graduating. He was going to go to college, go into film-making... Boulder was impressed with his portfolio. He was so close to getting out of South Park, he couldn't die here. He couldn't lose his chance...

Craig watched as he flipped the page. He wasn't laughing or telling him, "no, no, just give it six weeks, give it a few months and you'll be in remission." He wore knitted eyebrows and a solemn expression on his face.

"I'm going to die."

It wasn't a shout or a declaration; it was a whisper, the heaviest words he had ever spoken left his lips. They echoed in his brain as if he had shouted into an intercom, to scratch into his brain.

He felt his mom tighten her hold on his hand; he wanted to pull away from her, but couldn't bring himself to do so.

"We haven't completed a spinal tap, but combined with the CT, MRI, and X-Ray we conducted last week, we have found that the cancer has spread." Craig's heart pounded furiously in his chest.

"Stage four," he mumbled. He knew enough of cancer from taking anatomy classes. He just never thought he'd be here. "Where... where has it spread?"

Dr. Sorenson set his pen down and looked directly at Craig.

"Leukemia doesn't have any stages, although the cancer is more advanced. Your results show you've been suffering for awhile now, have you felt any discomfort? Dizziness, fatigue, weakness, or blurry vision?"

"Well, yeah... but I have anemia. I kind of figured it was that." His doctor sighed heavily and nodded.

"Often times the two have similar symptoms. In many cases that's exactly what happens. As far as where your cancer has spread... we still aren't sure as to if it has spread to your spine, but we received positive results that it spread to the brain."

The brain. He had leukemia in his fucking brain.

"Can you... can you fix that?" He asked, voice wavering. His mom was ashen-faced, and for the first time in his life he just wanted to curl up in her arms and have her make this all go away. Craig felt little, powerless. There was no control in his body.

"Through chemotherapy and radiation, yes. Your state is advanced, it has progressed over three months. We need to start therapy immediately because your bone marrow is 100% blast cells... I honestly am baffled that you haven't had any illnesses or infections. Or that you're..."

"Alive?" Craig asked blankly, staring at his hands. His bone marrow was just cancer. He wasn't healthy. How is one supposed to cope with that? "What if I didn't do treatment?"

"You would bleed to death in a matter of days."

He felt his mom's hand squeeze his gently, as if she would break him if her grip was too tight. But he needed that, needed to feel some sort of ground. Right now Craig felt as if he were spinning out of control. He couldn't focus on anything except the fact he was a walking cancer. Living death.

"If we treat you, we can extend your treatment and you could live even years and-"

"Wait, wait, wait..." Craig interrupted sharply, "I won't be cured?"

"There is a chance, but... for how long you've had it and the state it has progressed, I don't think-"

"He'll be on chemotherapy until he dies?" His mom asked, as if this appalled her. For the record, it disgusted Craig too. He would die drugged up and in pain. He would die because he had leukemia in the brain and most likely his spinal cord. But he'd have longer if he did it. Probably.

The fact that it wasn't a guarantee made him against it. The fact that if he didn't start treatment he would die in a matter of days made him for it.

"What is the treatment?" He finally asked in a broken whisper.

"We would start chemotherapy and radiation immediately. The radiation would be to target the leukemia in the brain. You would need to stay in the hospital for a month before out-patient therapy could begin. We would give you medication to help relieve the symptoms of chemotherapy as well, and put you on the list for a bone marrow transplant unless someone in your family could donate."

Craig looked to his mom and saw her visibly stiffen. He bit his lip and waited for her to say it. Waited for the truth to come out; one that he had been waiting so desperately to hear. Combined with learning he was going to die, no matter what, he needed to know why his family couldn't help save him.

"That... that's not possible, doctor," she finally whispered. Dr. Sorenson looked at her gravely, then to Craig, who was clinging to her every word. She pulled her hand away from his and suddenly he wanted that connection; it's the closest he ever felt to her. And now more than ever he needed that.

"No one in your family has matching marrow?" She shook as she looked at Craig, then at his doctor.

"Craig was... Craig is adopted."

There it was. Everything finally clicked in his head; the years of waiting for proof, waiting to hear the admission, the waiting was finally over. It was just a shame it was in these conditions. He wondered if they were waiting to tell him on his birthday or something; that would have been nice.

"Is there any communication with his biological parents? Would you be able to see if his parents would be willing to test and see if they matched?" Suddenly this situation seemed bleak. Not that it already didn't; but Craig knew the chances of finding a bone marrow match that was outside of the family. Slim to none, for the time frame, at least.

"There are no records of who his parents are," his mom finally said, voice breaking as she looked at Craig. "He was found outside of a hospital in Asheville. It was obvious he had been born not even an hour before he was found."

He was abandoned at birth. His biological parents didn't even want him. For two years of his life he didn't have a name... he was just anonymous. No one. A little baby taken care of at hospitals, or foster care homes, he didn't even know.

All he knew was this was too much to take in.

He was days away from death and would be starting chemotherapy and radiation tomorrow. His suspicions of being adopted were confirmed. No matter what treatment may be pointless.

He had no control. And that's what scared him the most. His entire world was flipped upside down and he soon wouldn't have the strength to fix it and put it back to the way it was and should be.

"Then you will be immediately placed on the list for a donor. Do you have any questions, Craig?"

Questions? He wasn't quite sure if he could even speak. Nothing was making sense right now; the doctor's words sounded like Russian. He just stared at his hands and watched as they trembled. Where had his calm composure gone? Where was his facade of control?

His doctor took his silence as a "no." That's not what he wanted at all. He just didn't think his voice was even strong enough to pose a question.

"Great, we will start you for treatment tomorrow. If you'll follow me we need to get your measurements and from there we'll discuss the course of action. I would suggest having your mom or a family member bring you a week's change of clothes at a time rather than an entire month's worth. We will notify your school and accommodations will be made. After a day or two you can have a friend bring you your assignments."

"Wait... I'm staying here?" Craig asked in confusion. Doctor Stevenson gave a slow nod.

"We've talked about this already, Craig." He bit his lip and bowed his head. He honestly didn't remember. All he knew was he felt nauseated and tired.

On top of everything this hospital was going to be his home for the next month.

"We have a group therapy for teens who are also battling cancer throughout Colorado that are treated here. They meet on the third floor on Thursdays..."

Craig didn't want to go to a fucking support group. He didn't want any of this... the tubes, the IVs, the chemo; it all seemed too much too soon. He still hadn't gotten over the fact that he had been diagnosed with cancer nearly an hour ago. A cancer that was potentially incurable.

"Can I bring a pet?" Craig asked, interrupting Dr. Stevenson. The middle aged man peered at him. "My guinea pig... can I bring him?"

"No... no, Craig. Pets aren't allowed in the facility." The eighteen year old sighed heavily and wrapped his arms around himself.

He wasn't ready for this.

But he realized, as he was led down the hall by an over-talkative nurse, that no matter what happened he had to be ready. Because there were only two outcomes from this. And Craig didn't think he had it in him to make one of them his definite future. No matter what he would have to be ready for injections and nausea and dizziness. He would have to be ready to forget things and get weak and tired all the time. He would have to be ready to be in constant pain and discomfort. He would have to be ready to die.


	8. You're So Fucking Stupid

_Author's Note: Well, this one was originally a lot different. But I kind of like how this turned out. Now I'm off to churn out Butters' Guide chapters. Thanks for reading/reviewing!_

* * *

"You're so fuckin' stupid, ya fuckin' piece of shit!"

"Shut the fuck up, bitch or I'll make you shut up!"

Kenny's hands trembled as he wiped the blood from his sister's face. Karen closed her eyes as he carefully pulled a sliver of glass from her cheek and pressed an old t-shirt to the cut. She winced yet said nothing.

"That's the last one," he murmured, then licked his thumb and wiped it on her cheek. The sixteen year old smiled weakly and sniffled before she rested her head on his shoulder.

"Thanks, Ken," Karen replied, taking his hand in hers. "What about you?"

Kenny ignored her locked gaze on his swollen eye, and rubbed the hand-shaped bruise on his shoulder. His knobby, thin shoulder.

"Don't worry 'bout me, Kar-bear," he replied with a small smile. "Now, go have fun on your date. You look beautiful." Karen gave her older brother a sad look, one that he tried his best to ignore, and hugged him tight. The small blonde tried his best not to wince as she pressed against his wounded shoulder.

"I love you," Karen said, kissing his unharmed cheek before she climbed out his window.

Kenny watched after her, until she disappeared over the hill, passed the train tracks. He shivered and wrapped his arms around himself as he sat in his room.

It was sad to say some of the markings on his face weren't from his parents. The shiner was, as well as the bruise on his cheek. The cut on his lip, however, had been done earlier. He wasn't blaming Craig, but... things happened. His boyfriend probably wouldn't remember, anyway.

Speaking of his boyfriend.

Kenny had no idea what was going on. He was worried sick about Craig, literally. His nerves were on overdrive and his stomach was in knots as he waited for a phone call to find out what was going on. He had never seen Craig cry before; seeing him express so much emotion was rare. And it was terrifying.

When he found Craig crying like that he had no idea what to do. All he knew was there was something terribly wrong and he wasn't sure if he could fix it. Kenny wanted to fix everyone and everything if they let him; but something told him this was different. Craig was different.

The seventeen year old pulled out a cigarette and placed it between his lips. He flicked his lighter on and took a drag once the butt was lit. He closed his eyes and relaxed as he felt the burn in his throat.

The air was cold enough to bite his skin. Kenny shivered and laid back on his bed, curling up with the dirty sheet to hopefully gather a little more warmth.

Sometimes Kenny didn't understand how he carried on the way he did. Everyone saw him as this happy, cheery soul. Craig thought he was constant energy. And he was. He wanted to be that way for everyone else, kind of like what Butters did, because everyone needed that kind of optimism to get them along. But Kenny knew it was a one way street; he would carry on the way he did, push everyone along, give them the boost they needed to get the hell out of here; and fast.

But he would be stuck here, and someday soon there would be no one to be a bubbly burst of energy for. Someday soon no one would need his optimism to get through the day. And that was difficult to deal with. He didn't think about it often; more than not he just wished he had his own future to look forward to.

And it was sometimes difficult to wear even a fake smile. There were many days he could say "fuck the world" and hide in his room, hide in his secret places not even his best friends knew about, and break down. Sometimes his persona got old to him, and he knew if he were someone else he'd probably beat the shit out of himself.

But his parents did that enough, so he didn't see much of a point wishing that on himself.

Even though it was difficult, Kenny knew his happiness was necessary for a lot of people. Right now, he was thinking of one person in particular. He just wasn't quite sure what all he could do, and if it was even wanted.

Kenny didn't call Craig. He just dressed in one of Karen's sweater dresses and a pair of leggings, bundled up in his parka and winter boots, then exited his room through the window.

Even for March it was frigid.

Ten minutes later Kenny knocked on Craig's door and pocketed his raw hands. He had balled the sleeves of the sweater in his fists, allowing his skin to begin to thaw.

The door slowly creaked open and Kenny looked up into the eyes of his haggard-looking boyfriend. He suddenly found it difficult to smile, especially with Craig looking like that. The eighteen year old leaned against the door and, with weak eyes, tried to lift the corners of his lips even slightly. His lip trembled, however, and Kenny stepped forward.

"What happened?" Craig asked as he caught a good look at Kenny. He sounded as if he had just woken up. Kenny shrugged and silently thanked Craig as he wrapped an arm around him and led him into the warmth of the house.

"It's nothing," Kenny replied with a calm tone and then burrowed his head against Craig's chest. The pressure on his cheek caused his face to throb. "Are you okay? What happened?"

The raven-haired teen held tight to him and buried his face in Kenny's hair. They remained like that, just holding each other in the middle of the Tucker's living room, not saying or doing anything else. The air seemed tight and the blonde felt as if his lungs were full of water.

"Kenny," Craig whispered with a tight voice. The smaller boy ran his hands down Craig's sides and felt his face heat as he was drawn closer to his boyfriend. Craig's fingers tugged at the belt loops in the sweater and Kenny's face darkened. "I..." the blonde tilted his head as he waited patiently to hear the end of the sentence. "I don't have a lot of time..."

"For?" Kenny asked. Craig pulled him closer; his touches screamed urgency and Kenny felt his heart quicken as his hands gripped him close and tight. It was nice, to feel needed. Wanted.

"My... my parents are going to be home soon," Craig clarified with hesitance, then pressed a kiss to Kenny's nose. "And I want to..."

"Have sex?" Kenny asked for him. Craig remained still and silent, then gave a slow nod. "What... why? I mean... this isn't just a quick decision?"

"No," Craig answered; there was a waver in his voice. He sounded vulnerable, raw, and it hurt to hear. Kenny wanted to help, wanted to know what was going on, and would do whatever was necessary to make Craig feel better. He just didn't want him to later regret this. "I just want to feel alive." Kenny pulled away slightly and knitted his eyebrows in confusion. "I want to feel something."

"And sex is the best option?" Kenny asked, seriously wondering where the logic was behind Craig's thinking. It wasn't the fact that Kenny cared about having sex, but he cared about it being with Craig. He was worried about what it meant, what it would change, and what Craig wanted. This sudden decision to have sex seemed impulsive and not thought out; he just feared being a regret. Especially since Craig was a virgin.

"I just want to feel your warmth, I'm so cold," Craig whispered, and Kenny felt his breath hitch as tears leaked from Craig's eyes. He felt the drops land on his neck, and slide down his collar bone. He wiped it away, then brushed his thumbs under Craig's eyes. "I want to feel you... and know I'm still here. Kenny, p-please... just hold me."

Kenny wrapped his short arms around Craig and wished that at this moment he was taller, bulkier, so he could wrap Craig in his arms, hold him tight, and let him know he was protected and loved and warm. Here. Alive. Whatever he needed to know. He wanted to be the one to soothe the ache in his heart, or try his damn best, and just be there for him.

But Kenny also knew Craig would never let another human being see him like this.

"Craig," Kenny whispered, pressed his lips to his cheek bone so he could speak into his ear, "I want you to make love to me."

Their lips brushed against each others', slow and deliberate, as if they were taking the time to memorize the shape, the feeling, the taste of the other. Kenny's fingers clutched the sleeves of Craig's old Red Racer shirt and pulled him down toward him. His chest swelled as the taller boy swooped an arm around him and pressed their bodies together.

There was need in the passionate kisses that left Kenny's body in mush and his mind in logical ruin. Not lust, not hunger, but a need for connection, a need to simply _feel_. And Kenny was urgent in soothing that desperation and desolation in Craig's soul and body. He would try his best to soothe him, hold him, and love him.

Craig broke their lip lock, but not before stealing one last tender kiss, and pressed his forehead against Kenny's. Their eyes locked, and in that moment, Kenny felt tears burn in his eyes. No one had ever looked at him with such intensity, such passion, and he reached for Craig's hand. He was met with a gentle squeeze and tug that led him to the stairs.

In silence they walked up the stairs, to Craig's room. By the time Craig locked the door and turned around Kenny was already laying on the bed and wore a soft smile as he gazed at him. He felt adored. He felt warm.

And he lay next to Kenny, and placed his hand on his cheek, and pressed their lips together slowly. He lingered before he deepened the kiss, and couldn't help but shake as Kenny's hands traveled down his face, toward his chest, and rested at his heart.

Soon they were a mess of limbs and flesh and sweat and gasps for air. Soon everything was forgotten except one another, and their love was greater, their love was extravagant. Craig was so desperate to hold on to that very feeling, to keep it locked away in his chest until the end of his days, to feel nothing but love and the closest to happiness he had ever felt. He needed this, he needed Kenny, and as their bodies met in the most beautiful way Craig could ever fathom, he knew he had him. He would always have him.

And he was so beautiful, with heavy eyes and pink cheeks, and swollen parted lips that moaned his name in a breathy voice powerful enough to fuel the ever-burning need within him. And he was perfect as he pressed kisses to whatever part of him his lips could reach. And he was warm against his body, warm as he rolled his hips against his. He wished he could absorb that warmth, let it sit in his body and keep him lifted, but all he could experience was this temporary fix that would only make him crave it more.

And so he held on to Kenny, burrowed his head deep into his shoulder and wrapped his arms around his shoulders, drawing their chests to press tight against one another, sealing any space between them that was left.

And as he buried himself within Kenny, felt his heat surround him and burn him from the inside out, he realized it was not the warmth of Kenny's body that drew him in, but of his soul. Right now it burned in him so bright that his mind was blinded.

Before he knew it he was crying, pleading to be able to feel the way Kenny felt. His tears fell on Kenny's cheeks, and he felt the younger boy's lips tug his, his hands ran through his hair, pulling him in, allowing him to experience a semblance of the brightness in his world.

But it wasn't bright. It was dark, and it hurt, Craig realized. There was no light except for what he practiced so much for others to see. There was no brightness in the welts and knots in his skin. There was no warmth in the deepest corners of Kenny's brain where he kept those true feelings locked up tight, biting and clawing to escape.

Yet there was a match to lead the way. Its warmth was enough to heat the coolest night and Kenny cherished it and kindled that flame to last until it was no longer necessary. His light would go out when no one needed a way to see.

And sometime that light would go out for Craig. Sometime soon... sooner than Kenny knew.

They were just bodies. Flesh and blood and tissue and guts. They were only temporary. This, Craig decided as he gazed down at Kenny, whose chest hitched with his quiet pants and body was tinted pink and glistening from sweat, was only temporary.

And there was no warmth in that.

"Where are you?" Kenny asked in a sleepy voice, nuzzling his head in the crook of his neck as they lay in the glow of their passion; all sweaty and trembling and warm.

"I don't know," Craig replied, staring at his hands. One lay on Kenny's side as he held the small boy against him. The other rested on his naked stomach. "I don't know anymore."

"Let me help you," the blonde turned to him now, with desperation that mirrored his own heart. "Just let me do something... say something..."

Craig closed his eyes and rested his head on Kenny's thin shoulder. The younger boy bit back his discomfort as Craig lay against the bruise, and rested his cheek on Craig's temple.

"I'm sick," Craig's whisper was a blood curdling scream in the silent room. Kenny crawled down the bed and rested his chin on his boyfriend's shoulder now.

"I'll make you better."

"You can't."

"I'll try."

Craig laughed and reached for Kenny's hand. He knew every fiber in Kenny's being would try; that was the beautiful thing about him.

"I think I'm dying."

Kenny's breath hitched as he gasped and his nails bit into the raven-haired boy's skin.

"That's... a bit..."

"I have leukemia."

Suddenly the room was cold. Kenny looked as if he had just been struck by his hand, and his eyes were wide. He saw them glisten, saw the tears try to fall, but the seventeen year old rubbed them away. It appeared as if he was trying to jam his fists into his eye sockets. Craig pulled his hands away and saw the river on Kenny's cheeks.

"Craig..." Kenny whimpered, shaking his head. "But you're... you're... there's treatments and..."

"My doctor doesn't know how I'm alive. Chemo will just keep me alive longer, so I won't keel over in a couple of days." He heard Kenny sob and felt his body quake with the noise. "It's in my brain... it's probably in my spinal cord... he said I might have a few months, maybe a couple of years." The blonde shook his head and wrapped his legs and arms around the eighteen year old, clinging to him.

"They can't treat it?" Craig shook his head. "They have to... there's a way. I'll find it or I'll die trying."

"I don't need you dying too," Craig laughed miserably. Kenny's lip trembled and his eyes welled with new tears.

"That's not funny," Kenny's voice was small and weak, and lost in a new wave of sobs. Craig pulled him close and shook his head.

"No, it's not."


End file.
